...with the trainer. She says if I'm not hurting, she's not doing her job. Well, kudos to her then!
I've gotta say it's hurting more while I'm there than the next day as most people seem to complain about. (do I get to brag about that? nah, didn't think so) It feels like I hyperventilate while I'm there & I'm not sure how to keep that from happening. Not quick breaths, but just short I guess. Today I couldn't get that last rep in because my fingers were tingling so much. That pisses me off.
I also did my own 40 min with the elliptical on Saturday. The first 15 or so were worse than the last 25, but I managed to lock my knee at one point (added to the list of things I recommend NOT doing) so was sore and limping down stairs on Saturday, and during the oil change I did on the car Sunday morning (speaking of, don't ever EVER buy oil filters from Wal-Mart, okay? The damned things aren't made to fit the same oil filter wrench that every other filter is designed to fit. Just a teeeeeeny bit smaller, making the werench slip off like a socket on a stripped bolt). The knee felt really good today though.
Next day with the trainer is Friday. I can do this, but my lungs really need to get with the program. There's also the diet thing though. Really gotta work on that.
Showing posts with label Automobilia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Automobilia. Show all posts
26 May 2008
27 December 2007
Road trip
Woo-hoo! No speeding ticket from my drive through Wyoming and Montana this year! Of course, much of the highway from Casper to points north were hard packed snow, if not straight ice about a half inch thick. Sadly, no snow fell in Montana on Christmas day. Had a nice visit to see mom. Of course the visit involved a to-do list of things she hasn't been able to square away. Easy stuff; setting up the TV's that were moved around a few months ago, putting a hanging ball to tell her where to stop the car in the carport, resetting the friction belt on the stationary bike. We played some games, enjoyed great food & generally relaxed.
Snow did fall in Colorado while I was gone though. Seven inches on the 25th, then took a break while I drove home on Boxing Day (thankfully) then started up again that night. The snow is still falling now.
So, the stats...
$178.17
Gas money for the round-trip drive. Winner: Exxon. Loser: Airlines that wanted to route me through Phoenix(!) to get me there, at about twice the price.
61.848
Gallons of carbon-based fuel, cleanly and responsibly burned through territory that sees more methane emissions from cattle than my EPA-rated 21/28 mpg Altima could ever hope to fart out. Besides, while Wyoming and Montana beef is very fine grade in my ever so humble opinion, they still cannot trump my Altima's delivery of a mom's favorite, if only, son to her doorstep. Winner: Altima. Loser: At least 12 ounces of Bessie sitting on my plate.
12:15
Hours:Minutes that I spent in each direction of this journey, plus or minus 15 minutes... the log book was doused in water at one point as I made a left turn on to my mom's street, smudging up the pencil'd time entries. Winner: Bic. Loser: My precious mathematical numbers. You know, as opposed to the Alphabetical numbers...
1557
Total miles placed on said Altima, working out to just over 25 mpg (a tic or so better than the 50th percentile of that EPA bit, so there). Winner: ..uh, Department of Transportation I guess, in getting stats bumped up to grub up more Federal Highway dollars. Loser: Mother Earth... You didn't really buy in to that "cleanly and responsibly burned" tripe I typed up there, did you? My friggin "Check Engine" light is on again because it apparently needs a hug or something.
63.55
Average miles per hour including stops for gas and facilities (not bad at all, considering the off-and-on icy roads roughly from Casper to Bozeman, and my now considerably less-than-500-mile bladder... Getting old sucks, I tells ya). Winner: Minimal brake application. Hey, we're talking about getting to Mom's home cooking! Loser: Highway billboards whizzing by. Except those Burma-Shave verses...
MANY A WOLF
IS NEVER LET IN
BECAUSE OF THE HAIR
ON HIS
CHINNY-CHIN-CHIN
BURMA-SHAVE
LCD Soundsystem, North American Scum
Snow did fall in Colorado while I was gone though. Seven inches on the 25th, then took a break while I drove home on Boxing Day (thankfully) then started up again that night. The snow is still falling now.
So, the stats...
$178.17
Gas money for the round-trip drive. Winner: Exxon. Loser: Airlines that wanted to route me through Phoenix(!) to get me there, at about twice the price.
61.848
Gallons of carbon-based fuel, cleanly and responsibly burned through territory that sees more methane emissions from cattle than my EPA-rated 21/28 mpg Altima could ever hope to fart out. Besides, while Wyoming and Montana beef is very fine grade in my ever so humble opinion, they still cannot trump my Altima's delivery of a mom's favorite, if only, son to her doorstep. Winner: Altima. Loser: At least 12 ounces of Bessie sitting on my plate.
12:15
Hours:Minutes that I spent in each direction of this journey, plus or minus 15 minutes... the log book was doused in water at one point as I made a left turn on to my mom's street, smudging up the pencil'd time entries. Winner: Bic. Loser: My precious mathematical numbers. You know, as opposed to the Alphabetical numbers...
1557
Total miles placed on said Altima, working out to just over 25 mpg (a tic or so better than the 50th percentile of that EPA bit, so there). Winner: ..uh, Department of Transportation I guess, in getting stats bumped up to grub up more Federal Highway dollars. Loser: Mother Earth... You didn't really buy in to that "cleanly and responsibly burned" tripe I typed up there, did you? My friggin "Check Engine" light is on again because it apparently needs a hug or something.
63.55
Average miles per hour including stops for gas and facilities (not bad at all, considering the off-and-on icy roads roughly from Casper to Bozeman, and my now considerably less-than-500-mile bladder... Getting old sucks, I tells ya). Winner: Minimal brake application. Hey, we're talking about getting to Mom's home cooking! Loser: Highway billboards whizzing by. Except those Burma-Shave verses...
MANY A WOLF
IS NEVER LET IN
BECAUSE OF THE HAIR
ON HIS
CHINNY-CHIN-CHIN
BURMA-SHAVE
LCD Soundsystem, North American Scum
17 November 2007
Addiction
A little over a month ago, my Sirius satellite receiver up & died on me. I called 'em up and went through the obligatory troubleshooting with the heavily accented dude. He ultimately told me to have the shop remove the offending POS from the Nissan while they sent me a replacement.
The first day without it was just wrong. How do the radio stations get away with the, the ... PULP that they pump out every morning? Add to that the flat-out terrible reception that my stereo gets with the in-the-rear-window antenna on the Nissan, keeping me from being able to listen to either of the two stations here that do actually play some music in the mornings, and the drive is more easily made with no tunes at all.
Hours went by, stretching into days. Before I knew it, a week had passed and no new receiver. I called them and they advised that their shipment was stuck in customs.
I can now imagine what some crack head goes through when his pusher says, "Sorry man, ain't got nuffin today on accounta them suits downtown needing my entire stock for their IPO party..."
Suffice it to say, that was not the answer I wanted to hear. I started having tremors when the full meaning of what I was being told sunk in.
"Wait, you're saying they're, like, STUCK? Somewhere? Uh, so could you maybe tell me where that is? ... Oh, no reason. Ju- Just curious. Seattle? Well shit, I can't drive there. I've got work tomorrow. INEEDMYDAMNFIXMAAAAAAAN!!"
Then came the call (yes, they actually called me to let me know); The shipment was expected to be delivered the end of the week... when I would be out of town. Friggin sadists, I tell you! After some more talking (trying to explain why I reallyreallyREALLY needed that delivery before I left because, uh, my neighbors would do something with it if it was just left) they finally saw reason & set my replacement to be sent overnight once they get to their distribution center. They estimate it will arrive on the day I'm getting on a plane.
-twitch-
So the next morning I get an e-mail with the FedEx tracking number (did I TELL you they were sadists?!?) and immediately go to the webbery to see where my precious is right then. Oh good, Cincinnati.
Wait, what?? It was held by customs in Seattle! What the hell, did they throw the damned thing too far?? -twitch-
It says it's scheduled for delivery by 10:30 the next morning. My flight is at three in the afternoon. Okay, that is plenty of time. I mean, right? Wouldn't you think so?
-twitch-
"Hey Sara! (she's my manager) I need to take a full day off tomorrow & not just a half, okay? There's, uh, something that came up. I think I chipped another tooth. Okay?" Isn't it amazing what excuses an addict will come up with ON THE SPOT like that? I mean, really, once I get the thing, all I'm going to do is put it in my house and then have it installed when I get home.
The next morning I'm up at the usual time, 4:00am, a time commonly (and rightly) unknown to most people. Unless they're exiting the local pub of course. I can't stand admitting this, but I really did check the front porch for any boxes laying out there before hopping in the shower. FOUR in the morning, people. On a day off. Something is wrong with me. (yay, step one complete) -twitch-
With my shower done, I eat breakfast while watching Early Today (yes, there is an "early" edition of the Today show, the show that is on for two hours longer than it needs to be by itself, in my never so humble opinion, but I digress) at a lower than normal volume in case there's a knock at the door. I play a little with Mario the Wonder Kitty, and even he is looking at me like, "What the fuck are you doing up, huh?" I hop online and look at some of the rest of the news, check the weather at my destination, go through the suitcase to make sure everything I need is there, aaaaaaaaand then I check FedEx. "Arrived at station" it tells me. I hit F5. You know, just in case.
If their web site were a tad smarter, it could have slammed me with, "What? You didn't believe me before asshole? I told you ARRIVED AT STATION. Don't make me add a weather delay in, bub!" So at 4:05 I peek out the front door again...
Okay, yeah. That's blatant exaggeration. Instead, I did go lay down again. I didn't go back to sleep, of course. Oh no. I could FEEL it, a mere ZIP code or three away from me where I lay. Likely tossed carelessly in some corner of the warehouse. Savages. I read the magazines that came in recently to try to take my mind off of that nightmare. I vacuumed. I washed dishes. All that schtuff. Ya know when my precious showed up? 10:23am. Not crushed beyond recognition. Not weeping from its abuse (being inanimate helps, I suppose). I make the drive, still Sirius-less, to the airport. That was a rough drive.
So I get back from a great time in Texas and have the car shop reinstall the box in whatever secret cubby hole in the dash they had the old one, and drive home listening to their generic always-on channel that spews out weather and the 800# to call to have my receiver activated. Yes, I did. It was amazing, and it wasn't even music. IT LIVES!
So I get home after the trip, and gather my various numbers (account number, old radio ID, new radio ID, and that 800#). I call, and they ask me for the phone number that's on my account. This is where having phone number changes over the past year is a bit of a liability. My rush of musical bliss was being delayed because I've had three phone numbers in the past year. Did I give them the land line that I never answered? The old cell number that was changed when the new cell came? Crap! I have all these other numbers, dammit! Happily, I remembered the right one and enter the hell that is Automated Phone Support. Those automated lines with the pleasant lady that recognizes your voice commands so long as you have no accent whatsoever. "Would you like to continue in English? Say yes to proceed." Those kinds. I reply, "Yes" and get the voice saying "I'm sorry, I didn't get that. Did you say 'mustard'?"
Anyway, I zero out of that and get Frank on the phone. No, his name isn't Frank. You know this. I know this. He knows this. We play his game because I just want my damned Area 33 as soon as possible, okay? -twitch-
"Frank, bud, listen carefully. The receiver is installed, the radio is on and tuned to 148, and I have the radio ID here. You ready for it? Because it's starting now," and I belt that 12-digit bastard out as clearly as I can between the tremors.
"I'm sorree, I didn't get dat. Did jou say 'moostard'?" ...so much for cutting through their scripted replies. We go through the usual. Yes, it's on. Yes I hear the broadcast (can't you? I'm in the car with the weather report being recited right now fer chrisssakes!). Yup, you've got the right ID number for the radio and we just confirmed my street address (thank God I didn't change THAT recently!) and secret handshake. "Hokaee, de tranzmishun iz beink sent now, and shood arrife widin 30 second or fife meenut." I swear, I don't know what country they sent me to this time, but it's apparently a new one. I'm guessing Brazil or Chile.
I wipe my brow as I stare at the radio and it's taunting "12:14" time display. Frank is breathing heavy in the phone while we wait. This is not helpful, but I don't dare hang up with a truncated "kthanxbye" because then the tranzmishun wouldn't arrive. The display changes to "updating channels" as a chorus of angels sings out. My eyes tear up and I tell Frank that all is well with the world, no there's nothing else I need right now, yes I'll go online if I need any account information... Frank, I'd just like to be alone with my radio for a while, ya mind?
AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH that's better.
The first day without it was just wrong. How do the radio stations get away with the, the ... PULP that they pump out every morning? Add to that the flat-out terrible reception that my stereo gets with the in-the-rear-window antenna on the Nissan, keeping me from being able to listen to either of the two stations here that do actually play some music in the mornings, and the drive is more easily made with no tunes at all.
Hours went by, stretching into days. Before I knew it, a week had passed and no new receiver. I called them and they advised that their shipment was stuck in customs.
I can now imagine what some crack head goes through when his pusher says, "Sorry man, ain't got nuffin today on accounta them suits downtown needing my entire stock for their IPO party..."
Suffice it to say, that was not the answer I wanted to hear. I started having tremors when the full meaning of what I was being told sunk in.
"Wait, you're saying they're, like, STUCK? Somewhere? Uh, so could you maybe tell me where that is? ... Oh, no reason. Ju- Just curious. Seattle? Well shit, I can't drive there. I've got work tomorrow. INEEDMYDAMNFIXMAAAAAAAN!!"
Then came the call (yes, they actually called me to let me know); The shipment was expected to be delivered the end of the week... when I would be out of town. Friggin sadists, I tell you! After some more talking (trying to explain why I reallyreallyREALLY needed that delivery before I left because, uh, my neighbors would do something with it if it was just left) they finally saw reason & set my replacement to be sent overnight once they get to their distribution center. They estimate it will arrive on the day I'm getting on a plane.
-twitch-
So the next morning I get an e-mail with the FedEx tracking number (did I TELL you they were sadists?!?) and immediately go to the webbery to see where my precious is right then. Oh good, Cincinnati.
Wait, what?? It was held by customs in Seattle! What the hell, did they throw the damned thing too far?? -twitch-
It says it's scheduled for delivery by 10:30 the next morning. My flight is at three in the afternoon. Okay, that is plenty of time. I mean, right? Wouldn't you think so?
-twitch-
"Hey Sara! (she's my manager) I need to take a full day off tomorrow & not just a half, okay? There's, uh, something that came up. I think I chipped another tooth. Okay?" Isn't it amazing what excuses an addict will come up with ON THE SPOT like that? I mean, really, once I get the thing, all I'm going to do is put it in my house and then have it installed when I get home.
The next morning I'm up at the usual time, 4:00am, a time commonly (and rightly) unknown to most people. Unless they're exiting the local pub of course. I can't stand admitting this, but I really did check the front porch for any boxes laying out there before hopping in the shower. FOUR in the morning, people. On a day off. Something is wrong with me. (yay, step one complete) -twitch-
With my shower done, I eat breakfast while watching Early Today (yes, there is an "early" edition of the Today show, the show that is on for two hours longer than it needs to be by itself, in my never so humble opinion, but I digress) at a lower than normal volume in case there's a knock at the door. I play a little with Mario the Wonder Kitty, and even he is looking at me like, "What the fuck are you doing up, huh?" I hop online and look at some of the rest of the news, check the weather at my destination, go through the suitcase to make sure everything I need is there, aaaaaaaaand then I check FedEx. "Arrived at station" it tells me. I hit F5. You know, just in case.
If their web site were a tad smarter, it could have slammed me with, "What? You didn't believe me before asshole? I told you ARRIVED AT STATION. Don't make me add a weather delay in, bub!" So at 4:05 I peek out the front door again...
Okay, yeah. That's blatant exaggeration. Instead, I did go lay down again. I didn't go back to sleep, of course. Oh no. I could FEEL it, a mere ZIP code or three away from me where I lay. Likely tossed carelessly in some corner of the warehouse. Savages. I read the magazines that came in recently to try to take my mind off of that nightmare. I vacuumed. I washed dishes. All that schtuff. Ya know when my precious showed up? 10:23am. Not crushed beyond recognition. Not weeping from its abuse (being inanimate helps, I suppose). I make the drive, still Sirius-less, to the airport. That was a rough drive.
So I get back from a great time in Texas and have the car shop reinstall the box in whatever secret cubby hole in the dash they had the old one, and drive home listening to their generic always-on channel that spews out weather and the 800# to call to have my receiver activated. Yes, I did. It was amazing, and it wasn't even music. IT LIVES!
So I get home after the trip, and gather my various numbers (account number, old radio ID, new radio ID, and that 800#). I call, and they ask me for the phone number that's on my account. This is where having phone number changes over the past year is a bit of a liability. My rush of musical bliss was being delayed because I've had three phone numbers in the past year. Did I give them the land line that I never answered? The old cell number that was changed when the new cell came? Crap! I have all these other numbers, dammit! Happily, I remembered the right one and enter the hell that is Automated Phone Support. Those automated lines with the pleasant lady that recognizes your voice commands so long as you have no accent whatsoever. "Would you like to continue in English? Say yes to proceed." Those kinds. I reply, "Yes" and get the voice saying "I'm sorry, I didn't get that. Did you say 'mustard'?"
Anyway, I zero out of that and get Frank on the phone. No, his name isn't Frank. You know this. I know this. He knows this. We play his game because I just want my damned Area 33 as soon as possible, okay? -twitch-
"Frank, bud, listen carefully. The receiver is installed, the radio is on and tuned to 148, and I have the radio ID here. You ready for it? Because it's starting now," and I belt that 12-digit bastard out as clearly as I can between the tremors.
"I'm sorree, I didn't get dat. Did jou say 'moostard'?" ...so much for cutting through their scripted replies. We go through the usual. Yes, it's on. Yes I hear the broadcast (can't you? I'm in the car with the weather report being recited right now fer chrisssakes!). Yup, you've got the right ID number for the radio and we just confirmed my street address (thank God I didn't change THAT recently!) and secret handshake. "Hokaee, de tranzmishun iz beink sent now, and shood arrife widin 30 second or fife meenut." I swear, I don't know what country they sent me to this time, but it's apparently a new one. I'm guessing Brazil or Chile.
I wipe my brow as I stare at the radio and it's taunting "12:14" time display. Frank is breathing heavy in the phone while we wait. This is not helpful, but I don't dare hang up with a truncated "kthanxbye" because then the tranzmishun wouldn't arrive. The display changes to "updating channels" as a chorus of angels sings out. My eyes tear up and I tell Frank that all is well with the world, no there's nothing else I need right now, yes I'll go online if I need any account information... Frank, I'd just like to be alone with my radio for a while, ya mind?
AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH that's better.
15 October 2007
Oh good lord, he's back.
"The bum takes a fiscal quarter off & thinks he can just jump right back in, does he?"
Yup indeed. Ya know why? Because today is Blog Action Day, a day for bloggers to raise awareness of environmental issues. To find out more, visit the Blog Action Day website.
Ya know what I'm doing? Affixing this to my car. You're welcome.
Yup indeed. Ya know why? Because today is Blog Action Day, a day for bloggers to raise awareness of environmental issues. To find out more, visit the Blog Action Day website.
Ya know what I'm doing? Affixing this to my car. You're welcome.
12 May 2007
Friday off... PARTYPARTYPARTY
I took Friday off. No reason, just decided to take a three-day weekend. Saw a movie from the same guy that gave us Shaun of the Dead. Turns out that the movie also used pretty much the same cast as SotD, too. I enjoyed Hot Fuzz quite a bit.
Last night went to a going-away party of sorts; A coworker here is being sent to the desert for a while, so a bunch of us got together to shoot some stick and down some booze. Then there was the obligatory knee-to-chin incident as well (hey, get a couple Marines and an Army Ranger together with alcohol in the general vicinity and things happen. Good times)... Happily it wasn't my chin. I only got clocked as I stood too close watching someone take a swing at the Golden Tee game there. I ended at +16 for that course (I can't putt in that game to save my life). The other guy was swinging to slice a hard left and brought his hand right to my eye.
Gnarls Barkley, The Boogie Monster
Last night went to a going-away party of sorts; A coworker here is being sent to the desert for a while, so a bunch of us got together to shoot some stick and down some booze. Then there was the obligatory knee-to-chin incident as well (hey, get a couple Marines and an Army Ranger together with alcohol in the general vicinity and things happen. Good times)... Happily it wasn't my chin. I only got clocked as I stood too close watching someone take a swing at the Golden Tee game there. I ended at +16 for that course (I can't putt in that game to save my life). The other guy was swinging to slice a hard left and brought his hand right to my eye.
This morning was a good morning. After six hours of sleep, I got up with the sun to get outside & wash the car before the temp crept up too high. Started at 61 degrees, wiped off the last of the wax at 71 degrees, a mere two hours later. The Nissan is mostly pretty again ( #!@%*^!! Cottonwood tree keeps dumping its sap & other crap on it). Why did I do this? ... Forecast from the local station this morning:
... No really. I'd like to know why. A few hours later I went to the store and found a nice layer of cottonwood pollen covering it, bumper to bumper. Grrr. Anyone want to do some midnight chainsawing?
Gnarls Barkley, The Boogie Monster
30 April 2007
A Spring Weekend
This was, I believe, is the first weekend this year to be above 80 degrees here.
Saturday morning stared at 7am for me. at about 7:30 I was the winner of maybe a dozen calls on my cell phone. They were from the girlfriend's son. At two years old, he's having a wonderful time getting into his mom's things. He knows right where the redial button is, apparently. I'd say "Hello?" and he'd go tell the dog that she was being bad. I think. He'd call her name and follow with, "No!" My guess is the dog was licking his face, but I'll probably never know for sure.
The g/f and I went to a comedy club Saturday night. I exaggerate when I say it was "night"; The show started about 5:30pm and went for a couple hours. Jack Willhite was headlining, with... Let's just call him "Fred". Jack wasn't too bad. Fred was a little better, but that's only because I didn't get a few of Jack's bits (when you start talking Country and/or Western music, I know nothing). Of course Fred isn't on the club's roster list for some reason, so I can't even point you in that direction to see the guy. Yeah, I suck for not remembering the guy's name.
Here's a nice dialog with the gal that I was trying to order a beer from. Either her hearing is about non-existant, or my voice is one of those that is just not heard.
Me: I'll have the Cherry Wheat.
Her: Some cherries, okay.
Me: No, CHERRY WHEAT.
Her: Oh, Cherry daiquiri.
Me, leaning closer to her this time and pointing to the BEER section on the menu:
No no... I want the Samuel Adams Cherry Wheat Ale.
I wonder if I need to not go there ever again if the guys there commonly order just a bowl of cherries and/or cherry daiquiris...
And then there was bowling after the late night of laughs ending at 7:25pm. You know how bowling shoes are supposed to slide as you bowl? No? Well they are. I would have done better sliding if I'd just left on my no-skid-mark-the-shit-out-of-any-floor-surface shoes. Everyone for two lanes either way could hear my shoes squeak to a halt a good two feet before the foul line.
Of course, a properly thrown ball is also supposed to curve in to the 1 & 3 pins (1 & 2 for southpaws), but oh well. I ended two games with 225 (total, not each).
Sunday was a day of car-washing and oil-changing. Since there was no rain, snow, or blizzards in the forecast, I saw that the birds decided to relieve themselves on the car's bumper between the wash and this morning.
The oil change went okay, except for that small amount of oil from the oil filter that spilled onto the exhaust pipe as I removed it. So I'll be that car that smells like burnt oil at every stop-light for God knows how long. I apologize.
I had a combination DVD/VCR deck that has been pissing me off to no end recently. Any DVD I put in would skip every minute or so, and the lens cleaner didn't do anything to help. So, thinking forward, I went out and bought an up-converting DVD player. Not a true HD or Blu-Ray thing, as I won't be jumping on that band-wagon any time soon (if ever).
Up-sides: No more damned skipping. On sale for a decent (even affordable) amount.
Down-sides: No tuner. No way to tell if the up-convert feature is worth a damn until I get an HD monitor, which isn't likely to happen any time soon.
The lack of a tuner is a pisser only because I don't have a long enough piece of coax cable to go from the antenna to the TV. That's easily resolved with a trip to Radio Shack for a coupler. The store that I picked up the player at had no coupler & wanted $20 for a 6-foot length of coax. That seems expensive to me. Actually my initial reaction was, "You've gotta be shitting me!"
That is all. No, you may not have that five minutes back. They're mine. ALL MINE!! AH-HAHAHAHAhahahahaha...
Midnight Star, Operator
Saturday morning stared at 7am for me. at about 7:30 I was the winner of maybe a dozen calls on my cell phone. They were from the girlfriend's son. At two years old, he's having a wonderful time getting into his mom's things. He knows right where the redial button is, apparently. I'd say "Hello?" and he'd go tell the dog that she was being bad. I think. He'd call her name and follow with, "No!" My guess is the dog was licking his face, but I'll probably never know for sure.
The g/f and I went to a comedy club Saturday night. I exaggerate when I say it was "night"; The show started about 5:30pm and went for a couple hours. Jack Willhite was headlining, with... Let's just call him "Fred". Jack wasn't too bad. Fred was a little better, but that's only because I didn't get a few of Jack's bits (when you start talking Country and/or Western music, I know nothing). Of course Fred isn't on the club's roster list for some reason, so I can't even point you in that direction to see the guy. Yeah, I suck for not remembering the guy's name.
Here's a nice dialog with the gal that I was trying to order a beer from. Either her hearing is about non-existant, or my voice is one of those that is just not heard.
Me: I'll have the Cherry Wheat.
Her: Some cherries, okay.
Me: No, CHERRY WHEAT.
Her: Oh, Cherry daiquiri.
Me, leaning closer to her this time and pointing to the BEER section on the menu:
No no... I want the Samuel Adams Cherry Wheat Ale.
I wonder if I need to not go there ever again if the guys there commonly order just a bowl of cherries and/or cherry daiquiris...
And then there was bowling after the late night of laughs ending at 7:25pm. You know how bowling shoes are supposed to slide as you bowl? No? Well they are. I would have done better sliding if I'd just left on my no-skid-mark-the-shit-out-of-any-floor-surface shoes. Everyone for two lanes either way could hear my shoes squeak to a halt a good two feet before the foul line.
Of course, a properly thrown ball is also supposed to curve in to the 1 & 3 pins (1 & 2 for southpaws), but oh well. I ended two games with 225 (total, not each).
Sunday was a day of car-washing and oil-changing. Since there was no rain, snow, or blizzards in the forecast, I saw that the birds decided to relieve themselves on the car's bumper between the wash and this morning.
The oil change went okay, except for that small amount of oil from the oil filter that spilled onto the exhaust pipe as I removed it. So I'll be that car that smells like burnt oil at every stop-light for God knows how long. I apologize.
I had a combination DVD/VCR deck that has been pissing me off to no end recently. Any DVD I put in would skip every minute or so, and the lens cleaner didn't do anything to help. So, thinking forward, I went out and bought an up-converting DVD player. Not a true HD or Blu-Ray thing, as I won't be jumping on that band-wagon any time soon (if ever).
Up-sides: No more damned skipping. On sale for a decent (even affordable) amount.
Down-sides: No tuner. No way to tell if the up-convert feature is worth a damn until I get an HD monitor, which isn't likely to happen any time soon.
The lack of a tuner is a pisser only because I don't have a long enough piece of coax cable to go from the antenna to the TV. That's easily resolved with a trip to Radio Shack for a coupler. The store that I picked up the player at had no coupler & wanted $20 for a 6-foot length of coax. That seems expensive to me. Actually my initial reaction was, "You've gotta be shitting me!"
That is all. No, you may not have that five minutes back. They're mine. ALL MINE!! AH-HAHAHAHAhahahahaha...
Midnight Star, Operator
23 April 2007
What season is this??
Washed the car over the weekend, and then saw this on the local news channel's weather forecast: "A WINTER STORM WATCH goes into effect for the foothills and mountains late tonight and will continue through tomorrow."
WTF?? When did we skip summer & autumn to give winter another go already? Guess I'll stock up on minstrels to tide me over until spring comes back again...
Jim Dugan, Let Me Go
WTF?? When did we skip summer & autumn to give winter another go already? Guess I'll stock up on minstrels to tide me over until spring comes back again...
Jim Dugan, Let Me Go
10 April 2007
P1126, I stab at thee
The check engine light came on again. Fed up with taking the damned thing to the shop, I went out and bought a code reader for about $10 less than the dealership charges to run their diagnostic test. It came up with P1126. "Thermostat function" is all most online places define it as. So far, I've had the thermostat, the knock sensor and the coolant temperature sensor (uh, isn't that what the thermostat is for?) all replaced. The knock sensor was a different code according to an earlier mechanic trip, but they seem to be related from what I've read out there. The more complex they make 'em, the easier (and more expensive) they are to break, it seems. So essentially, I'm getting this light because the computer can't see what the coolant temperature is? Damned nosey computer anyway! And since no news MUST be really really bad news, on pops the light. I mistakenly cleared the light because I didn't RTFM. I'm sure it'll come back, though.
There was a link that I had stumbled upon that mentioned two other potential pieces that could need replacement, but of course I lost that link. I think I remember the jist it though: Remove the ignition key and replace the rest.
Metallica, Nothing Else Matters
There was a link that I had stumbled upon that mentioned two other potential pieces that could need replacement, but of course I lost that link. I think I remember the jist it though: Remove the ignition key and replace the rest.
Metallica, Nothing Else Matters
21 March 2007
Rollin'
Driving to work this morning I was passed by a fast Mitsubishi Eclipse. Right after that, another Eclipse rolled by. A beat later, a third one went cruising on by.
All I could think was, "Wow, check out that Ecllipsis!"
dot dot dot
Yeah, I know. Don't quit my day job.
Beastie Boys, No Sleep Till Brooklyn
All I could think was, "Wow, check out that Ecllipsis!"
dot dot dot
Yeah, I know. Don't quit my day job.
Beastie Boys, No Sleep Till Brooklyn
15 March 2007
Diary Of A (bitchy) Nissan
Sept. ’06: Was traded in by that ungrateful family that I moved from California to Colorado. Bastages traded me in for a Murano. After that hellacious climb over the mountains, after blowing out three speakers, and after losing the ashtray, they just cast me aside for some bimbo. How the hell do they LOSE my damn ashtray, anyway? Hope they choke on their leather seats. ::huff::
Oct. ’06: I can’t believe that sales guy took such a pittance for me. I mean, helLOOOO? California babe here? C’mon people! Though trading that Buick in was probably a good call on the new guy’s part. I hope he doesn’t find out about my occasional leaking any time soon though. How embarrassing.
Damn, this guy sure made up for the lack of dollars he was willing to put out for me. I got a full-on sponge-bath and wax job. Now I feel bad about hiding my leaky issue.
Nov. ’06: Uh-oh. This one really does pay attention to me. He took me in to see what my engine light was about. Thank the highways it’s a super-secret Nissan-eyes-only code. They were thrown off-track with a knock-sensor, but it may only be a matter of time now. He just doesn’t like to see something’s wrong, but what’s a girl to do? I can’t TELL him what’s up, of course.
Oh, new speakers. That’s much better now. Not that you’d know it from this ::gag:: death metal rock stuff he listens to.
Just what the hell is this white slippery stuff on the road, anyway? Wait, I’m in MONTANA? I much prefer the sand and sun of SoCal to this stuff. Apparently someone didn’t pay the heating bill either. It’s so cold, my little leak opened up to be a bigger one. He’s not the type to miss this, I’m sure.
Dec. ’06: Holy SHIT! That white freezing stuff has been falling all damn day! My paint is going to crack, and damn if I’m gonna get a pedicure to last in THIS crap! Oh, and THEN he takes me in for fresh oil where some knuckle-dragging gorilla twists my filter too tight. Get your paws OFF of me, thankyew! I must express my displeasure by dimming the lights when the radiator fans come on… not that they will any time soon if this freezing crap keeps up.
Jan. ’07: Ouch! I picked up OWW! A nail on this goat-trail of a … OUCHOUCHOUCH highway. Now you’d think he’s GOTTA get me some new shoes, but what does he do? He has them PATCH it! Where the hell am I? Petticoat Junction?? These are LAST SEASON’S Goodyear line. I can’t go stepping out in patched tires. ::sob::
Feb. ’07: Alright, I’m about done here. No bath since September, nails on the road, hundreds of miles a week… A girl can only do so much ya know. Vengeance plotting begins now.
Mar. ’07: I think he’s reading my diary. He just gave me a bath and it feels SOOOO good to get rid of that crusty junk that was building up on my paint. I’m still going to melt down though. Even better for that, he just filled me up with high-test petrol. Guess he’s trying to suck up.
Rats, he was taking me to the dealership for the engine light, so I had to move up my timetable. I started by flashing the Air Bag light, but he didn’t notice so I had to hit him where it hurts; I shut off the stereo. HA! And it won’t turn back on, either. Double HA! So I finally get the treatment I deserve: A lift on a flat-bed to the dealership (yes, the shoppers there were looking up to me in awe, I’m sure) where I was treated pretty darned good. So what if Mr. Cheapskate owner had to dig in to savings for me. It’s about time!
So a new alternator, new thermostat, and a regular maintenance tranny flush later, I’m feeling almost pampered again (which is all I ever asked for; Is that so bad?). I gave him his stereo back, but only because it’s finally starting to warm up around here.
Disturbed, Liberate
Oct. ’06: I can’t believe that sales guy took such a pittance for me. I mean, helLOOOO? California babe here? C’mon people! Though trading that Buick in was probably a good call on the new guy’s part. I hope he doesn’t find out about my occasional leaking any time soon though. How embarrassing.
Damn, this guy sure made up for the lack of dollars he was willing to put out for me. I got a full-on sponge-bath and wax job. Now I feel bad about hiding my leaky issue.
Nov. ’06: Uh-oh. This one really does pay attention to me. He took me in to see what my engine light was about. Thank the highways it’s a super-secret Nissan-eyes-only code. They were thrown off-track with a knock-sensor, but it may only be a matter of time now. He just doesn’t like to see something’s wrong, but what’s a girl to do? I can’t TELL him what’s up, of course.
Oh, new speakers. That’s much better now. Not that you’d know it from this ::gag:: death metal rock stuff he listens to.
Just what the hell is this white slippery stuff on the road, anyway? Wait, I’m in MONTANA? I much prefer the sand and sun of SoCal to this stuff. Apparently someone didn’t pay the heating bill either. It’s so cold, my little leak opened up to be a bigger one. He’s not the type to miss this, I’m sure.
Dec. ’06: Holy SHIT! That white freezing stuff has been falling all damn day! My paint is going to crack, and damn if I’m gonna get a pedicure to last in THIS crap! Oh, and THEN he takes me in for fresh oil where some knuckle-dragging gorilla twists my filter too tight. Get your paws OFF of me, thankyew! I must express my displeasure by dimming the lights when the radiator fans come on… not that they will any time soon if this freezing crap keeps up.
Jan. ’07: Ouch! I picked up OWW! A nail on this goat-trail of a … OUCHOUCHOUCH highway. Now you’d think he’s GOTTA get me some new shoes, but what does he do? He has them PATCH it! Where the hell am I? Petticoat Junction?? These are LAST SEASON’S Goodyear line. I can’t go stepping out in patched tires. ::sob::
Feb. ’07: Alright, I’m about done here. No bath since September, nails on the road, hundreds of miles a week… A girl can only do so much ya know. Vengeance plotting begins now.
Mar. ’07: I think he’s reading my diary. He just gave me a bath and it feels SOOOO good to get rid of that crusty junk that was building up on my paint. I’m still going to melt down though. Even better for that, he just filled me up with high-test petrol. Guess he’s trying to suck up.
Rats, he was taking me to the dealership for the engine light, so I had to move up my timetable. I started by flashing the Air Bag light, but he didn’t notice so I had to hit him where it hurts; I shut off the stereo. HA! And it won’t turn back on, either. Double HA! So I finally get the treatment I deserve: A lift on a flat-bed to the dealership (yes, the shoppers there were looking up to me in awe, I’m sure) where I was treated pretty darned good. So what if Mr. Cheapskate owner had to dig in to savings for me. It’s about time!
So a new alternator, new thermostat, and a regular maintenance tranny flush later, I’m feeling almost pampered again (which is all I ever asked for; Is that so bad?). I gave him his stereo back, but only because it’s finally starting to warm up around here.
Disturbed, Liberate
31 January 2007
Just stay in bed
I wish I'd have said that to myself this morning. "Larry, just stay in bed, buddy. It's a fucked up world out there, and it's snowing shit. Just stay in bed."
Nothing catastrophic, just a bunch of surplus piss-ant things that chose today to show their greasy, puss-leaking faces. Among them?
The mystery cut at the very tip of my left index finger. Feels like a paper cut, but I usually remember those kinds of things pretty vividly. The point is, THAT'S MY TYPING FINGER DAMMIT, and so is extra annoying baceause the bandage on it is really fucking with my ten-word-a-minute typing velocity.
The new water dispensers at work here. They are built with the devil spawn "automatic sensor" that senses when the glass you want to fill is almost lined up with it's devil spawn spigot, and proceeds to dispense water down the OUTside of the glass. Once the glass is completely in place, the stream shuts off, pissing me off to no end. I'm sure somewhere in the marketing glossy that our management team was sucked in by are the words "efficient", and likely "saves water". I assure you, it does neither. Instead, it increases sales in paper towels from having to clean up the fucking mess... (insert Sam Kinison scream here) If you work in marketing, please take no offense when I say you suck big green donkey dicks, and I hate you.
I'm not even going to tell you about the adventure in parking my car today, save to say that I did fine; It was the idjit trying to reverse into the space next to me. Again, and again... and AGAIN. I couldn't open my door until she was done because I wasn't entirely sure that she wouldn't shear it off. (oops, guess I told you about it anyway).
Oh, and today is a twelve hour work day due to month-end. Hey, does that mean I can blame my demeanor on "That Time Of The Month"? ...nah, didn't think so.
:sigh: Just stay in bed Larry.
Candlebox, Cover Me
Nothing catastrophic, just a bunch of surplus piss-ant things that chose today to show their greasy, puss-leaking faces. Among them?
The mystery cut at the very tip of my left index finger. Feels like a paper cut, but I usually remember those kinds of things pretty vividly. The point is, THAT'S MY TYPING FINGER DAMMIT, and so is extra annoying baceause the bandage on it is really fucking with my ten-word-a-minute typing velocity.
The new water dispensers at work here. They are built with the devil spawn "automatic sensor" that senses when the glass you want to fill is almost lined up with it's devil spawn spigot, and proceeds to dispense water down the OUTside of the glass. Once the glass is completely in place, the stream shuts off, pissing me off to no end. I'm sure somewhere in the marketing glossy that our management team was sucked in by are the words "efficient", and likely "saves water". I assure you, it does neither. Instead, it increases sales in paper towels from having to clean up the fucking mess... (insert Sam Kinison scream here) If you work in marketing, please take no offense when I say you suck big green donkey dicks, and I hate you.
I'm not even going to tell you about the adventure in parking my car today, save to say that I did fine; It was the idjit trying to reverse into the space next to me. Again, and again... and AGAIN. I couldn't open my door until she was done because I wasn't entirely sure that she wouldn't shear it off. (oops, guess I told you about it anyway).
Oh, and today is a twelve hour work day due to month-end. Hey, does that mean I can blame my demeanor on "That Time Of The Month"? ...nah, didn't think so.
:sigh: Just stay in bed Larry.
Candlebox, Cover Me
09 January 2007
Cha-ching
I don't know if Nissan is doing well as a company, but I'm not sure how they couldn't be when they charge $160+ for a half-a-matchbox-sized knock sensor. Labor is only an hour, but I'm sure you know what your local mechanic charges by the hour. File that under "Definitely NOT peanuts" though not entirely unreasonable.
So that piece of trash sensor was changed out, and I was then told about the radiator.
Yeah, it's leaking. Now it used to be that repairing a radiator wasn't such a big deal (somewhere in the $60-80 range). Would you like to know what fucked that novel idea up though? The proverbial wrench thrown into the works of a simple radiator patch job is everybody's favorite substance that, according to chemical companies, makes life easier, safer, and more efficient... Until repairs are needed. Then it's all a disposable world.
Plastic.
While the core of the radiator is still the status quo aluminum, the side "tanks" as they're apparently termed, have been altered from the former brass / copper material to the much cheaper plastic. I could have it repaired, and have it done at the bargain-basement price hovering somewhere around 90% of the cost of a whole new radiator. Let us ponder the pros and cons of such an amazing deal, shall we?
I've got a better idea. Let's not.
At least that damned Check Engine light is off. Again, that is.
Vivaldi, Summer / Allegro Non Monto
So that piece of trash sensor was changed out, and I was then told about the radiator.
Yeah, it's leaking. Now it used to be that repairing a radiator wasn't such a big deal (somewhere in the $60-80 range). Would you like to know what fucked that novel idea up though? The proverbial wrench thrown into the works of a simple radiator patch job is everybody's favorite substance that, according to chemical companies, makes life easier, safer, and more efficient... Until repairs are needed. Then it's all a disposable world.
Plastic.
While the core of the radiator is still the status quo aluminum, the side "tanks" as they're apparently termed, have been altered from the former brass / copper material to the much cheaper plastic. I could have it repaired, and have it done at the bargain-basement price hovering somewhere around 90% of the cost of a whole new radiator. Let us ponder the pros and cons of such an amazing deal, shall we?
I've got a better idea. Let's not.
At least that damned Check Engine light is off. Again, that is.
Vivaldi, Summer / Allegro Non Monto
04 January 2007
I jinx myself, and cock-a-doodle-doo to you too
The Check Engine light is on again, dammit. Somehow I just knew it couldn't be that easy.
Among things I recommend avoiding if possible:
When playing around with a new toy, be sure you set the ringer on it for something that won't send the cat into fits when he wants to purr on your chest.
I got a phone call on it last night and hadn't realzed that the ringer I'd set it to was of ... wait for it ...
A crowing rooster.
Also of note was that the volume of the "ring" was not low, and was about 18 inches away from me. In other news, I have a collection of deep scratches on my chest now. OW! (I understand that the wimmins find scars attractive, so I guess I've got that going for me)
The Grateful Dead, Sugar Magnolia
Among things I recommend avoiding if possible:
When playing around with a new toy, be sure you set the ringer on it for something that won't send the cat into fits when he wants to purr on your chest.
I got a phone call on it last night and hadn't realzed that the ringer I'd set it to was of ... wait for it ...
A crowing rooster.
Also of note was that the volume of the "ring" was not low, and was about 18 inches away from me. In other news, I have a collection of deep scratches on my chest now. OW! (I understand that the wimmins find scars attractive, so I guess I've got that going for me)
The Grateful Dead, Sugar Magnolia
02 January 2007
--Enter meaningless title here--
So the New Year's Eve festivities were low key at the homestead here. By "low key", I mean, "in bed at 10pm". Yup, such is my level of excitement that I was examining the backs of my eyelids that early. The way I see it, I've done the 'up til midnight on December 31st' thing enough times, in various states of lucidity. I don't need to do any more.
I was, however, woken up at 11:45 by a nice lady in New Mexico who really wanted to wish me a happy new year. I think. Here's what I heard:
:ring:... "Herrlo?" That's me trying to talk, freshly returned from dreamland. Now you know what to listen for when you call me.
"HIIII!!!!" My eye's pop open from the decibel level of this broad... "I JUSHT WA-- ::urp:: WANTED TO SHAY HAPPY NEW 2007!!! I LOVE YOU!!" At this point, I am now fully awake. Yes, it was her burp that gained my full and undivided, if slightly grossed out, attention.
"Um... Is this Susan?" I know exactly one gal in New Mexico, and she is 1) gorgeous, but 2) very married, and 3) not one that normally drinks to excess.
"NO, IT'S ME!!" Well, that just clears everything right up...
"Okay, well hello you. Listen, you have a great first ride on the porcelain bus this new year, and in the morning you won't remember you've got the wrong number. Good night now, sweet cheeks."
Eh, she might actually have sweet cheeks, too. Guess I'll never know.
On the Excellent News front; Took the car in to get the Service Engine Soon light remedied. Or at least find out what I've gotta save up funds to have repaired. My mechanic took the GameBoy for Nissans to it, and the thing called the car a liar. No trouble code found. The little light wants attention, apparently.
I had the guy banish the light with his GameBoy, and there was much rejoicing. Especially since there was no charge. Bonus! He says if it does come back on, there could be a "recall" thing that says warranty will cover getting a new brain for it. I still think cars should be sold withOUT brains (Hey, it worked for the Model T!), but that's just me.
More good news, a new toy was just delivered by the good folks at UPS. I must now geek out for the next couple hours, if you'll excuse me...
Delerium, Siege of Atrocity
I was, however, woken up at 11:45 by a nice lady in New Mexico who really wanted to wish me a happy new year. I think. Here's what I heard:
:ring:... "Herrlo?" That's me trying to talk, freshly returned from dreamland. Now you know what to listen for when you call me.
"HIIII!!!!" My eye's pop open from the decibel level of this broad... "I JUSHT WA-- ::urp:: WANTED TO SHAY HAPPY NEW 2007!!! I LOVE YOU!!" At this point, I am now fully awake. Yes, it was her burp that gained my full and undivided, if slightly grossed out, attention.
"Um... Is this Susan?" I know exactly one gal in New Mexico, and she is 1) gorgeous, but 2) very married, and 3) not one that normally drinks to excess.
"NO, IT'S ME!!" Well, that just clears everything right up...
"Okay, well hello you. Listen, you have a great first ride on the porcelain bus this new year, and in the morning you won't remember you've got the wrong number. Good night now, sweet cheeks."
Eh, she might actually have sweet cheeks, too. Guess I'll never know.
On the Excellent News front; Took the car in to get the Service Engine Soon light remedied. Or at least find out what I've gotta save up funds to have repaired. My mechanic took the GameBoy for Nissans to it, and the thing called the car a liar. No trouble code found. The little light wants attention, apparently.
I had the guy banish the light with his GameBoy, and there was much rejoicing. Especially since there was no charge. Bonus! He says if it does come back on, there could be a "recall" thing that says warranty will cover getting a new brain for it. I still think cars should be sold withOUT brains (Hey, it worked for the Model T!), but that's just me.
More good news, a new toy was just delivered by the good folks at UPS. I must now geek out for the next couple hours, if you'll excuse me...
Delerium, Siege of Atrocity
22 December 2006
But it's a four-buh-four!
So we had that blizzard come through. The state governor declared a disaster emergency in six counties, urging people to stay off the roads. Evidently some nut thought they could get through it. It seems they cracked.
Yes, we salute you, Mister "I-Can-Go-Anywhere-Because-It's-A-Four-Buh-Four" guy.
15 December 2006
Route 66
I like to drive. I like to just get in the car and roll down the highway. T'is the embodiment of American freedom, yes? You have this key in your hand. And when you crawl into this tin can of machinery, you slide the key into the ignition, give a twist, and go watch submarine races Friday night up at Canyon Ferry Dam... er, I mean make a 200 mile round trip with Mom's car when you were only supposed to be gone for an hour or so...
Really though, I mean you're ... Free. Nobody tells you what to do with any real effect (though some might make passionate suggestions if you cut them off). YOU are the "deciderer". YOU have the will, and exercise it to make your next stop down the road. Or decide to NOT stop if you get exceptional mileage.
Yes, there are some caveats... There are those shiny flashing lights that make your auto insurance carrier smile (not your agent, necessarily), those pesky "Do Not Enter" signs (sing with me: signs, signs, everywhere are signs...) but don't damage my calm, man. The tank is nearly full, and I'm rollin'.
In the past, I've been pretty much bored out of my gourd on the likes of I-70 from the Colorado-Kansas border (truthfully, starting east of Limon) en-route to Pigeon Forge, TN because it's so damn flat. Same for central Montana's I-90, the latest source of my insurance carrier's evil, despicable grin.
Anyone that takes road-trips on occasion knows full well that radio stations A) generally suck (a-la Clear Channel), or B) don't last more than an hour or two. I don't like taking a load of CD's with me because I just don't care that much to be careening down the road trying to shuffle out a new CD. I picked up a stereo that plays MP3s, which helps greatly on the "don't need to fling so many CD's around" front, but didn't eliminate it. And frankly, I've gotta say I'm getting kinda tired of the music I do have, which may number a hundred (and from across the land comes the echoed "AMATEUR!"). So Thursday I went & got Sirius installed on the car since the stereo was designed for it to be plugged in, and I'm planning another road-trip for Christmas. I'm liking this quite a lot.
Really though, I mean you're ... Free. Nobody tells you what to do with any real effect (though some might make passionate suggestions if you cut them off). YOU are the "deciderer". YOU have the will, and exercise it to make your next stop down the road. Or decide to NOT stop if you get exceptional mileage.
Yes, there are some caveats... There are those shiny flashing lights that make your auto insurance carrier smile (not your agent, necessarily), those pesky "Do Not Enter" signs (sing with me: signs, signs, everywhere are signs...) but don't damage my calm, man. The tank is nearly full, and I'm rollin'.
In the past, I've been pretty much bored out of my gourd on the likes of I-70 from the Colorado-Kansas border (truthfully, starting east of Limon) en-route to Pigeon Forge, TN because it's so damn flat. Same for central Montana's I-90, the latest source of my insurance carrier's evil, despicable grin.
Anyone that takes road-trips on occasion knows full well that radio stations A) generally suck (a-la Clear Channel), or B) don't last more than an hour or two. I don't like taking a load of CD's with me because I just don't care that much to be careening down the road trying to shuffle out a new CD. I picked up a stereo that plays MP3s, which helps greatly on the "don't need to fling so many CD's around" front, but didn't eliminate it. And frankly, I've gotta say I'm getting kinda tired of the music I do have, which may number a hundred (and from across the land comes the echoed "AMATEUR!"). So Thursday I went & got Sirius installed on the car since the stereo was designed for it to be plugged in, and I'm planning another road-trip for Christmas. I'm liking this quite a lot.
22 September 2006
Surprised, though I maybe shouldn't be.
I made the second payment on Bobbie, and her "Service Engine Soon" light poped on this morning. Sure, Bobbie's not new (at 101k miles), but still. She's not missing or sputtering or anything, so here's hoping it's something minor, like an O2 sensor or something relatively benign like that.
06 September 2006
Wednesday? Already?
I love it. Short weeks are always a winner in my book. For the three day weekend, I washed the car. Such excitement, huh? Also pulled together the DVD's lying around & compiled them into Movie Organizer. Though not without flaws (print formatting is a challenge for DVD's with a long title), it's a very nice setup that will pull the data from its own MOODb and IMDb for the movie using the UPC code and/or title. This is less than useful if your DVD was a box set whose UPC was on the outer wrapping that you threw away long ago. Oops. For the price, it cannot be beat. Take a peek, if that's just the thing you've been looking for. Pay what you want to via PayPal. And it's 
so there's that.
Of course, I still have that half gig of photos to post somewhere (after resizing). Work work work...
Nocturn, Flirt (Part I) via DNA Lounge Radio
so there's that.Of course, I still have that half gig of photos to post somewhere (after resizing). Work work work...
Nocturn, Flirt (Part I) via DNA Lounge Radio
21 August 2006
Explicative-free zone, one day only
The weekend... it was a mixed bag. The races were pretty good. Three Ferrari 250's placed one-two-three in Sunday's group 6B. 6A's big iron roared fantastically on Saturday, and there was only one car-damaging wreck & no driver injuries. In that, it was great.
The post-race conversations where politics and other world issues / crises are solved... well, that just fell through. It seems that while I may be my dad's son, I'm still only a child when debates and discussions are brought to the adult's table. Being interrupted, talked over, and generally ignored made me feel like just going with the thirteen year-old son of dad's business partner to ride bicycles. Only as long as we stayed in sight and out of that dangerous traffic (/sarcasm). In truth, I did get up and walk away, completely unnoticed. I suppose I should be glad someone didn't pipe up with, "Say Larry, could you go to the cooler and get me a beer? Be sure to use both hands now." (okay, NOW /sarcasm... really!)
Photos. Half a gig of photos await downloading & distributing, but I feel more like just deleting the lot of 'em.
And in the bad news department (yeah, it got better upon my arrival home), the property managers did the landscaping for more than half the yard here. Looks like absolute ass, and I am just ever so looking forward to the forthcoming bill for it. It's gonna be hell to try raking up Cottonwood droppings, too.
I think I'll go for a swim over there in that pool... the one with the big letters on the side that says (Lord help me) "Coors". This weekend is just so far beyond explicatives and colorful metaphors that I'm not even gonna bother with 'em
Seefeel, Moodswing ... no shit Dick Tracy. (oops, an explicative... so sue me)
The post-race conversations where politics and other world issues / crises are solved... well, that just fell through. It seems that while I may be my dad's son, I'm still only a child when debates and discussions are brought to the adult's table. Being interrupted, talked over, and generally ignored made me feel like just going with the thirteen year-old son of dad's business partner to ride bicycles. Only as long as we stayed in sight and out of that dangerous traffic (/sarcasm). In truth, I did get up and walk away, completely unnoticed. I suppose I should be glad someone didn't pipe up with, "Say Larry, could you go to the cooler and get me a beer? Be sure to use both hands now." (okay, NOW /sarcasm... really!)
Photos. Half a gig of photos await downloading & distributing, but I feel more like just deleting the lot of 'em.
And in the bad news department (yeah, it got better upon my arrival home), the property managers did the landscaping for more than half the yard here. Looks like absolute ass, and I am just ever so looking forward to the forthcoming bill for it. It's gonna be hell to try raking up Cottonwood droppings, too.
I think I'll go for a swim over there in that pool... the one with the big letters on the side that says (Lord help me) "Coors". This weekend is just so far beyond explicatives and colorful metaphors that I'm not even gonna bother with 'em
Seefeel, Moodswing ... no shit Dick Tracy. (oops, an explicative... so sue me)
16 August 2006
VROOOOM
T minus six hours to end of work, and start of security checkpoints as I head west. I'll be back next week. If any one needs me, I'll be roaming the paddocks here, or sitting near turn 5. Or 8A. Or maybe ... hell, I dunno. This general area:
Regenerator, Blink
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